


==> Dirk: Join A Support Group

by DorkLarue



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Autism, Autistic Dirk Strider, Autistic Jade Harley, Autistic Jake English, Autistic Roxy Lalonde, Earth C (Homestuck), Nonbinary Roxy Lalonde, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-29
Updated: 2020-06-29
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:20:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,948
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24971458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DorkLarue/pseuds/DorkLarue
Summary: Jade, Roxy, and Jake start an “I Grew Up Isolated From Human Society" support group and rope Dirk into meeting with them every week, to learn things like "how currency that isn't Boondollars works" and "how to establish healthy boundaries and respect the boundaries of others".
Comments: 3
Kudos: 52





	==> Dirk: Join A Support Group

**Author's Note:**

> Homestuck fic? In 2020? It's more likely than you think.  
> Everyone is autistic because I'm autistic and it's my fic.

==> Dirk: Join A Support Group

“All right! So, I’m a little fuzzy on the details still, but June made me a cheat sheet that I’ve photocopied for you guys! It’s kind of confusing, but we’ve all had practice with Grist and Boondollars already so I think we can totally manage!”

Jade beams, confident, passing out a photocopied drawing to the assembled friends around her dining room table. Roxy and Jake accept theirs excitedly. You give a token roll of your eyes behind your shades but accept your paper before Roxy has a chance to give you a Look. You don’t really want to be here, but Roxy pouted that it would make them happy and pestered that it would be good for you until you agreed. You are now an official member of the “I Grew Up Isolated From Human Society Support Group”, the title helpfully declared in glass-bottle-green and cotton-candy-pink on a banner Jade and Roxy apparently just had to make, and you are about to be schooled on how currency that isn’t a gaming abstract works.

And, to be fair, you really aren’t all that sure how money works in real life.

You know what capitalism is, and that money is exchanged for goods and services, but you have no idea what things are meant to cost in this time period/dimension and what amounts the different bills and coins are worth. You could definitely figure this out on your own though.

But, you sigh to yourself. Just because you can do it alone doesn’t mean you have to. It’s hard to remember that sometimes.

* * *

You learn a lot about your friends at these meetings, little things you never thought to wonder about. Jake’s distinct accent is, apparently, the product of loneliness and Grandma English’s James Bond tapes. With no one around to speak or listen to, and a habit of watching the films he had on hand on repeat before figuring out how to stream movies online, he parroted the lines to himself as echolalia and accidentally trained his voice into a strange, region-less, half-British accent. It is a story that manages to be at once both sad and utterly ridiculous, as you’ve found most things to be in your little group. He explains it as if he’s telling an amusing, if slightly embarrassing, anecdote, and you suppose in a way that it is.

You’re meeting at Roxy’s house this week, which means you’re also meeting at Jane’s house, which means there are homemade cookies set out for everyone. You eye them warily. Jane gave you a piece of cake once, early on in the game, and the unfamiliar taste and texture made you gag. New foods are always a gamble, and you don’t particularly like playing that game in front of this many witnesses. Roxy is bouncing up and down on the balls of their feet as they share their latest findings on how public transportation works, Jake is gently reminding Jade to chew on her rubber necklace instead of her own hair, and you wonder not for the first time how much of your group’s collective social ineptitude is due to isolation and how much is due to the fact that you are all autistic.

* * *

“I ate an orange for the first time” you share. You’re all supposed to share new things you’ve done or tried or learned about in the past week. You’re allowed not to, and for a while you haven’t, but it’s felt weird to listen without sharing. And, secretly, you are pretty proud of yourself for trying an orange. New foods are still tough, but you’re learning that you really fucking love fruit. Fish is still your safe food though. When all else fails, nothing is more familiar than unseasoned cod, even if it’s never as fresh as you’d like it to be.

You’re meeting at Jake’s house today, which you are trying to pretend it’s less awkward than it really is, and if you’re being honest lately is actually has been. Less awkward at least. Not “I’d like to give Us another try” levels of less-awkward, but “hanging out with you in a group setting doesn’t feel like chewing glass” less-awkward, which is a start. You’re not really sure if you even want to try and rekindle that flame anymore, to be honest. Life has a lot more variables than it used to, back when you only knew three other humans. For now you’ve decided your goal is just to work towards “super platonic one-on-one bro hangouts where we can practice setting and respecting boundaries because we both suck at that” and see where that takes you.

Setting and respecting boundaries has actually been a pretty frequent topic of conversation at these meetings. You’re all really, really bad at it in different ways.

You’re a clingy jealous bastard and you know it. Maybe not physically, physicality is still kind of touch and go (ha) for you, but. Emotionally, socially. Can’t let your friends hang out with other people or they’ll forget about you. Paranoid. It fucking sucks, and admitting to it sucks more, because it means a lot of shit is at least partially your fault. And it probably means you and Jake weren’t really a great match, or maybe were too great a match, because you are somehow at once opposites and exactly the fucking same. He ignores and avoids and denies when things are uncomfortable or difficult, because you can get away with that on an island with a screen between you and your friends, because if something is wrong or complicated then paradigms shift and friends could leave.

Building too many boundaries while the rest of you can’t seem to set enough, ignoring the boundaries of others when they don’t fit into his perfectly constructed worldview. Sounds familiar.

Roxy is better emotionally, but they are just awful with physical boundaries-apparently carapacians don’t really have them in the same way humans do, at least not the friendly ones that raised them. Roxy’s first instinct is to hug and touch and nuzzle anyone they consider a friend, regardless of the time and place. Which is pretty fucking cute, but definitely makes people uncomfortable sometimes. They’re leaning their head on Jade’s shoulder right now, playing with her hair. They asked Jade first this time, even though Jade doesn’t ever mind-being awake on Prospit means her dream self got her some social interaction growing up, and she has carapacian social cues almost as ingrained in her as Roxy. The two of them are the least touch starved of your rag-tag group of feral children, leaving them craving social touch instead of prickling at the unfamiliarity.

Though, it’s probably still good Roxy asked, because Jade has a habit of acting like she doesn’t mind things even if she does. People-pleasing, too afraid that her small social circle will shrink into nothingness if she voices discomfort.

She’s gotten a lot better about that lately.

All of you are getting better about these things lately.

* * *

The meeting is in your living room this week, and you’re kind of thankful for the monthly intrusion into your living space because it motivates you to actually pick things up and not leave puppets and half-constructed robots lying around for your unsuspecting guests to stub their toes on. You wonder if the other three feel the same way. Growing up without supervision rarely instills good housekeeping habits. Sometimes you imagine meeting in a community center basement, drinking shitty fruit punch and sitting in uncomfortable folding chairs, like a respectable, cliché support group. You’ve never actually seen one of those before, a community center or shitty fruit punch or a “real” support group, but they were in movies sometimes so you think you get the gist. This version seems preferable.

Integrating into human(/troll/carapacian/consort) society is difficult. That’s kind of the point of the support group. So, there are bound to be things about isolation you miss. Thinking about them makes you worry that you sound ungrateful.

“I miss the quiet” you admit, because everyone else has shared something they miss-Roxy misses their carapacian neighbors, Jade misses the wide open spaces for running and playing, Jake misses how much simpler things felt with a screen between him and every social interaction. The benefits of human contact far outweigh what you all miss, but you’re allowed to miss the things of your childhood.

“Not all the time” you clarify. “It was never actually quiet anyways, there were always the waves, and it got damn near maddening sometimes. But. The world can get really loud now that there are other people in it, and I’ve never had to deal with sensory overload like this before.”

You hesitate, instinctively wanting to keep information close to the chest, because you’re embarrassed, and you want them to think you’re more put together than you actually are.

That isn’t the point of the group.

“I found these youtube videos that are just ocean sounds for hours and I’ve been listening to them to go to sleep, or to…calm down. It…helps, sometimes. The familiarity”.

Roxy squeezes your hand. Physical contact is a double-edged sword, prickling and painful if done the wrong way or at the wrong time or by the wrong person, but you ache for it in its absence. Roxy has seemingly perfected the art of “touch Dirk just enough that he doesn’t fucking explode” and you’re grateful for it.

”That sounds like a really good idea Dirk! I’m glad it’s helping!”

You smile a bit at Jade’s praise, just barely an upturn of the corner of your mouth but a smile nonetheless, and squeeze Roxy’s hand back. You hate admitting that this group was probably a good idea but fuck. Yeah, it’s been useful. It started so you could all get a crash course in things like “how money works” and “how to ride a bus”, pooling your scant knowledge of human society based on movies and anecdotes until you emerged something functional. Sometimes those things still come up but it’s mostly become the “I can't maintain healthy relationships because I learned everything I know about socializing from movies” club. The "street lights keep me awake all night, how do I deal with light pollution" club, the "I learned how to tie my shoes from a WikiHow when I was ten" club, the "I pushed a kitchen chair in front of the stove to make dinner and left it there for years so I could reach" club. With a peppering of “I’ve never eaten a peach before. Do I have to peel it?” thrown in for good measure. All your friends have the shared trauma of the game but growing up like you did, like Roxy and Jade and Jake did, it makes you a special kind of weird. The isolated feeling stayed even when you were surrounded by people because you're still perceptibly different. The group is a way to shake that feeling.

And it’s fucking working. You guys are just nailing this “learning how to maintain healthy romance and friendships” and "learning healthy coping mechanisms" thing. Jake still isn’t totally sure how many nickels are in a dollar and Jade is spooked by mail trucks and Roxy has yet to figure out the self-checkout at the grocery store and the peach question is yours, actually, but damn it you can totally hang out or watch a movie together and feel like a group of friends, and baggage is lighter when you share it or some shit like that.

Hell fucking yes, you guys are the best at this shit.

Sort of.

You’re getting better at least.


End file.
